


After the Temple of Light

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode related: S2p2, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Sentinel Too, Jim is convinced that he failed both his love and Alex Barnes, the other Sentinel.  Blair must convince him he's wrong--but how?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Temple of Light

## After the Temple of Light

by Jantique

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly owns everything except the necessary imagination, or maybe it's just the nerve.   


* * *

Two Weeks Later 

Jim Ellison slammed into his loft, threw his jacket in the general direction of the hook, and sank down on the couch. Blair, who was making dinner in the kitchen, looked up in concern. 

"Hey, babe, you okay? You want a beer?" 

"No--I mean, I'm okay; I don't want a beer. I'm just tired." 

"Lean back. I'll give you a neck massage." 

This was definitely the best offer Jim had had all day. He gratefully leaned into Blair's capable, sensitive hands, as Blair took advantage of the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lover's forehead. "You get a bad case?" 

"No, no, it was nothing. A couple of old cases and lot of paperwork. I don't know, just a bunch of annoying little things. No big deal." 

Sandburg was willing to bet he knew exactly which big deal it was. The same "big deal" it had been for the last two weeks. He said quietly, "You were thinking about her, weren't you?" 

"Her" was understood. "Her" was Alex Barnes, the female Sentinel, who had suffered a complete sensory overload, now lost so deep inside her own mind she would never find the way out. 

Jim sighed. "Yeah. I can't stop thinking about her--and everything that happened." He tilted his head up, at Blair's concerned, loving face looking down. "Damn it, she's a cold-blooded killer, amoral, ruthless, unfeeling--and hell, she's not even my type! I love you, because you're intelligent, loving, funny, caring, and I think you are beautiful, even if you don't believe me. But if you weren't any of that, I'd love you anyway, because you're _you_! I don't know why--I can't explain--" He let out a sigh, and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. 

Blair rested his hands on Jim's shoulders. "It's okay, Jim. I know you don't believe that, but it _is_. You were under the compulsion of an imperative. You didn't have any choice. I know how you hate feeling out of control, but you _were_. But even then--when you were down on the beach with her . . ." This was _not_ one of Blair's favorite memories, and he faltered, but held on to his thought. 

Jim's voice was harsh. "You mean when I was _kissing_ her? When I was seconds away from having _sex_ with her?" He hated himself for what he'd done, and how he'd hurt the man he loved more than life. 

"Blair swallowed. "Yeah, that's the point. Jim, it was . . . like a spell. You were enthralled. But you _broke_ it, you stopped her from shooting me, and you broke the spell at the moment when it was strongest! Do you know what that _means_ to me? Well, I mean, besides being alive?" 

Jim didn't answer. 

Blair moved around, and knelt in front of Jim. "Babe, look at me." 

Jim reluctantly pulled his hands away from his face and looked up. "I failed you; I failed her; I failed . . . everything." 

"No!" It came out louder than Blair had intended. "No, you didn't fail anyone or anything! Jim, stop beating yourself up over this. Listen to me. You didn't fail me. You saved my life _again_. When you told me to leave our home, when you had the vision--you were trying to protect me. I _know_ that. And I have _never_ doubted how you feel about me. I didn't then, and I don't now. You didn't fail as a Sentinel. You caught the bad guys, and you got the nerve gas back. You saved a lot of innocent people." He took a breath. The third one was harder. "And you didn't fail Alex." 

"I didn't save her. I lost her." 

"No, Jim. _She_ lost her. There was nothing you or anyone could have done. And--okay, I may be way off base here, but . . . ." His voice trailed off. 

"What?" Jim asked dully. 

Blair took a deep breath. "Jim, you could reach her, because obviously there's a link between Sentinels. But you're a Sentinel, not a Guide. She never had her own Guide. Maybe if she did, someone who was really trained like Incacha, not just guessing like me, someone who'd known her and worked with her for years, maybe he could have held tight to her soul and brought her back. Maybe. No one else could have, not even you. And you're not to blame for that." 

The Sentinel leaned forward and gently kissed the frown between his Guide's worried eyes. "I know." He sighed. "I really know. But it's hard letting go." He shook his head, as if to clear away the past. "I love you, sweetheart. Just give me a little time, okay?" 

Blair automatically replied, "Of course, all the time you need." So he almost missed Jim's quiet murmur, "And it's so lonely." 

"What? Lonely?" 

"I mean, being alone, being the only one. Maybe the only one--the only sane one--in the world, now. You understand." 

Blair didn't, couldn't truly understand, because he wasn't a Sentinel, only a Guide. He might be the only one, but he wasn't different from everyone else in the world. And he could easily pray for Jim to never meet another Sentinel with fully realized senses, because suppose next time it was someone moral and caring and _loving_?! Someone Jim could let himself love. Could he wish for his lover to be happy if his own heart was broken? Could he stand in Jim's way? He'd have to deal with that, if it happened. But for now, all he could do was give Jim his support and his love. He reached up and hugged him tight, whispering, "I understand. It's okay, love. I understand." 

End 


End file.
